Comments about Samuel Daniel

(Does any body can help me in this poem? it is for Samuel Daniel :)
O blessed letters,1 that combine in one
All ages past, and make one live with all;
By you we do confer with who are gone,
And the dead-living unto counsel call;
By you the unborn shall have communion
Of what we feel, and what doth us befall.
Soul of the world, Knowledge, without thee,
What hath the earth that truly glorious is?
Why should our pride make such a stir to be,
To be forgot? What good is like to this,
To do worthy the writing, and to write
Worthy the reading, and the world’s delight?

O blessed letters,1 that combine in one
All ages past, and make one live with all;
By you we do confer with who are gone,
And the dead-living unto counsel call;
By you the unborn shall have communion
Of what we feel, and what doth us befall.
Soul of the world, Knowledge, without thee,
What hath the earth that truly glorious is?
Why should our pride make such a stir to be,
To be forgot? What good is like to this,
To do worthy the writing, and to write
Worthy the reading, and the world’s delight?

Hello
(favorfrank35@yahoo.co.uk)
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and it really acttract me alot i believe that you are the man i
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with you. I believe that we can move from here; but remember that distance; age
and colour dose not matter what matters is the true love and understanding; in
my next
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me with this mail address for further introduction.
Bye hopeing to hear from you soonest

Beauty, Time, And Love

I FAIR is my Love and cruel as she 's fair; Her brow-shades frown, although her eyes are sunny. Her smiles are lightning, though her pride despair, And her disdains are gall, her favours honey: A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honour, Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love; The wonder of all eyes that look upon her, Sacred on earth, design'd a Saint above. Chastity and Beauty, which were deadly foes, Live reconciled friends within her brow; And had she Pity to conjoin with those, Then who had heard the plaints I utter now? ...

Sonnet Liii: Drawn

Drawn by th'attractive virtue of her eyes, My touch'd heart turns it to that happy coast; My joyful North, where all my fortune lies, The level of my hopes desired most. There where my Delia , fairer than the Sun, Deckt with her youth whereon the world smileth, Joys in that honor which her beauty won, Th'eternal volume which her fame compileth. Flourish, fair Albion, glory of the North,